Like an Angel
by NOXlumos
Summary: Alastor Moody finds himself tossed in a sea of lies, suspicion and betryal. As the world he knows collapses around him he is changed forever, and it may not be good...
1. 1

Disclaimer: okay so none of the characters belong to me, or the overall plot, but hey, I can dream, right? And now you know what to get me for a birthday present ?  
  
A/N: I love Moody! He's really neat, and cool, etc. So anyway, I thought that he deserved a story, since well, you probably noticed that there aren't manyabout him...oh well, here goes- No, wait! If you read When Dreams are Ruined you will immediatly notice that I left out a certain character. The stories are not tied together. All the characters, at least, as of chapter 2 are ones mentioned in the books. (try page 173-174 of OotP, but not until you read the story since it contains Major spoilers).  
  
Like an Angel  
  
1  
  
He saw her sitting in the chair, her hair flowing around her lovely face, fanning out behind her even though there was no wind, like a veela, like an angel.  
"Alastor," she gushed, holding out her arms to him, "I love you." He glided across to her open arms, and enveloped her in a passionate embrace. She turned her face to him, and he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her soft soft lips-  
  
Alastor Moody, auror, age 36, awoke sweating heavily and panting in his own house, 10 miles away. The dreams had been haunting him for the past week. What had he done to disserve this torment? Dorcas Meadowes was a beautiful girl, if a little younger than him, but that didn't matter too much, did it? But lately, he had started to-be suspicious. Not that she had another lover-oh no-his thoughts were far worse. But it's all unfounded suspicion, right? It hasto be, she would never ever do that, never turn to the dark side, never call him her master.  
  
Somewhere in the distance his clock chimed, seven, he'd overslept by two hours. He lunged up from bed, startling the owl who'd been perching on his headboard. He ran to the bathroom, took one look at himself in the mirror, which started to scream and nearly flipped out. Somewhere in the commotion the owl came in with the newspaper in its beak and flew around trying to give it to him. The mirror continued its piercing wailing and screeching its eyes balled up tight.  
  
Moody struggled to his feet, the owl still soaring around, and the frogs in the bathtub croaking at their loudest.  
  
"Quiet!" He shouted, but the chaos only continued, the mirror wailing even louder.  
  
"SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!!!!!!!!" He roared, spit flying every where.  
  
"You," he said pointing threateningly at the mirror, "You're going away, I will not have some great-uncle's wailing heirloom in MY house another moment." At this the mirror gave terrible sobs and started crying and sobbing, tears streaming down the glass.  
  
"Silencio!" the mirror stopped mid hiccup and glared down at him.  
  
So much for auror training, he thought glumly as he got out his razor and started to shave the stubble off his chin. As far as he was concerned any auror-in-training who did that would never be allowed to step back into the campus. Back in his bedroom the owl was still waiting for him, looking rather touchy, its feathers sticking out at odd angles. Moody seized the paper and dropped two knuts into the little bag on the owl's leg. It took off in a great clash of feathers, obviously scared of staying it that 'mad house' a moment longer.  
  
He glanced at the paper and nearly choked.  
  
Prewett Brothers Killed  
The Ministry of Magic's aurors just confirmed the death of Gideon (32) and Fabian (28) Prewett. From evidence gathered it is certain that the two brothers faced five Death Eaters, fighting "like heroes" before being killed. There was only one witness to this event who's identity will remain concealed for their safety. The Prewett brothers, both upstanding members of our society will be awarded the Order of Merlin, first class for their bravery and courage when facing death. The identities of their attackers are currently unknown, although every effort will be made to trace them.  
  
Gideon and Fabian, who would have ever thought the two of them. Moody shook his head, trying to fight back his tears, but they came anyway. He laid his head in his arms and sobbed, howled out his grief and rage, at the loss of two fine men, his good friends, members of the Order. This had been happening for years, all around him his friends and fellows were being killed, had gone missing. The world was in terror, he knew not who to trust, or where to turn. Every person might be a supporter, every friendly face someone who would betray every person they knew, people they had grown up with, their friends, their family.  
  
Only Dumbledore stood like a rock.  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
The only name that could ever shake He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  
  
Although Dumbledore seemed solid, and radiated power, each death, each disappearance, each betrayal rocked him. He was becoming weaker. Oh-not noticeably, but weaker just the same. The death of each harmed his soul. But he was also becoming fiercer. Even he, who did not like Dementors or killing was starting to do greater harm. For years Moody had never understood why Dumbledore didn't kill, but now, something had happened, and those old ideas of a righteous battle were starting to falter. How could they ever win without greater loss to the other side?  
  
Moody sighed, wiping his eyes. Reaching into the depths of his pocket he pulled out the crumpled photo of the Order of the Phoenix, taken two days ago. Gideon and Fabian smiled and waved up at him as if nothing was wrong. The Order was dedicated against Voldemort, it was a secret society bound to do away with dark wizards, and led, of course, by Albus Dumbledore. The headquarters were perhaps the most secret part, and perhaps the safest place in all of England, except for Hogwarts. Lily and James Potter had been quite generous in lending their house to the Order's use. More like a fort. Every conceivable spell was on it, no one could ever find it, and Dumbledore had added special protection, or which only he knew. It was safe.  
  
Or so he thought. 


	2. 2

2  
  
Moody stood shivering in the cold of winter, the snow swirling around him. He peered up at the little house in Godric's Hollow, with its picket fence and garden covered in banks of snow it looked picturesque, its yellow walls inviting.  
  
The little living room was bustling with people, most of them grim and stony faced, an entirely different character than the fire cosily burning in the hearth. By now everyone knew of the Prewett's deaths and had gathered for the emergency meeting Dumbledore had called. Slowly Moody made his way down the stairs to the basement.  
  
A large table and two dozen chairs were the only objects of furniture in the room. A dozen candles floated in the air giving an eerie look to the room. Moody sat down at his accustomed place, two seats down from the right of the head. Slowly everyone began to file down to the bare room, many of their faces streaked with tears that gleamed in the fire light. Last came Dumbledore, somehow he seemed older, as if he had aged ten years since Moody saw him yesterday. It's the death, it's Voldemort, tearing apart families and friends destroying a world.  
  
Dumbledore had moved to the head of the table. As he started to speak his voice shook, "We all feel the loss of the two fine gentlemen who were recently killed. But we must continue. We may consider ourselves lucky that the sole witness of this crime was one of our members who I will now ask to speak."  
  
Tentatively Marlene McKinnon stood up from their midst. She was trembling and her face had a look of pure terror on it. "Traumatized" Moody heard someone whisper close by. She gulped and voice trembling began to speak.  
  
"I-I had been with Gideon and Fabian at the time, when five Death Eaters approached them. He had seen th..them com-coming and t-t-t-told me to h-h- h-hide." Large tears welled up in her eyes. "It was aw-awf-awful, they- they didn't ev-even give them a chance. The-they just s-s-s-t-tarted to fight, I-I had t-t-to close my eyes. It was terrible." She broke down crying.  
  
Moody was impatient, and he wasn't the only one. The rest of them had gotten over their grief numerous times. Too many. They needed her information.  
  
Dumbledore walked across to her and spoke to softly for Moody to hear. His words seemed to help Marlene though since she calmed down and took large gulping breaths. Dumbledore turned back to the waiting group.  
  
"Does anyone have questions they wish to ask Miss McKinnon?"  
  
Moody stood. "Miss McKinnon, or rather Marlene, do you know what curses were used during the fight?"  
  
She turned tear streaked face to him suddenly angry.  
  
"Not really, although as you probably expect it was Avada Kedavra that finished them off." Everyone in the room flinched at the name of one of the Unforgivable Curses, the use of which was enough to put anyone in Azkaban for a lifetime.  
  
Frank Longbottom stood up.  
  
"Do you have any idea who the Death Eaters may have been?"  
  
Moody had always liked Frank. He and his wife Alice were kind and generous, well loved by all wizards, the good ones. Frank was a superb auror, Moody loved to work with him. You never felt like you could give up when you were with Frank, he always said that the answer was "just around the next corner" and that corner was "just past that next spell" or "just pass that next investigation" or "just one more day searching". He was a wonderful optimist.  
  
Moody turned his attention away from Frank and back onto Marlene.  
  
"No, I couldn't recognize any of them, although, I remember their voices clearly. If I ever heard one of them talk again, anything, especially some curse or spell, I'm positive I would recognize the voice." There was shifting among the people gathered, perhaps they could still trace the attackers.  
  
Next to stand was Sirius Black.  
  
Moody-well- he wasn't sure about Black, after all he came from about as bad a family as possible, everyone of them Voldemort supporters. But early on he had shown a dislike for his family and their values. He was the first Black in ages who had not been in Slytherine, and that was enough to make 1% more trustworthy.  
  
As he stood he brushed some of his black hair from his eyes. Marlene smiled, every woman was always swooning over him, he was tall and spectacularly handsome. Moody liked him better young, all of his women were too old for Black.  
  
"What did you do after the attack?"  
  
"Well," Marlene started in a suddenly flirtatious voice, "afterwards I looked up and saw the Death Eaters moving toward two shapes on the ground. I nearly screamed with fright when I realized that it was Gideon and Fabian. I watched them kick there bodies to make sure they were dead and then apparated. After they were gone I apparated and told Dumbledore as soon as I could find him."  
  
Again the tears came to her eyes and her wispy frame shook as she sobbed.  
  
"Thank you Marlene," said Dumbledore rising and diverting the attention, "well as you can see we still have much to do. We are all to be on the look out for anyone suspicious in the murders, Marlene, maybe you should try to reach a few who may be death eaters, and listen to their voice, perhaps you will recognize one. Meanwhile we are all aware that we must continue with our duties, Alastor could I have a word afterwards. Oh, yes, and please would you be so kind as to take note if you hear of anyone who may make a good Divination teacher? The position will be empty next year."  
  
As everyone turned to leave Moody sat slumped in his chair. Looking up he saw Dorcas Meadowes glum faced getting up. Her long blonde hair swished elegantly around her shoulders as she stood. He caught her eye and she smiled briefly and was gone with the crowd.  
  
"Now Alastor, I have some serious business indeed." Dumbledore sat down again heavily as if exhausted. "Gideon had recently reported that he had knowledge of where Rosier is and what he's up to, I need you to trace his work, we need to find Rosier." Moody nodded to show he understood. "Do you have any clue where to start?" This would be a big job, Rosier was an expert when it came to Dark Arts and hiding. Moody knew why he had been chosen for this job. Not to avenge his friends, but since he was already tracing Rosier anyway, for work, it would be inconspicuous if he was looking for him.  
  
"Thank you," Dumbledore smiled kindly, eyes full of unshed tears, "I know what a loss this is for you. I hope that you can continue your friend's work and do him great honour."  
  
Moody stood to go, and turned so Dumbledore wouldn't see him cry. 


	3. 3

3  
  
Upstairs was all but empty, through a door ajar Moody could hear the Potters talking in low voices. Moving into the empty living room, he was reaching for the door when a soft voice behind him caused him to halt.  
  
"Alastor, please," Dorcas stepped out of the shadows by an armchair.  
  
"Oh, Dorcas, why?" Moody tried very hard not to let his emotions show.  
  
They made their way toward each other in a dreamlike state, finally meeting in a tight embrace. Moody looked down at her as she leaned her face up for his kiss. Her skin felt soft, her embrace full of passion, beauty, like an angel.  
  
They broke apart hesitantly, to soon. Lily Potter stuck her head around the door frame, and seeing the two of them their, moved back quickly. Moody saw her and turned his back, again leaning down to fervently kiss Dorcas again.  
  
Finally he recovered his senses, this was not the place nor time.  
  
"I'm sorry, love, but I have to go." Her look nearly broke his heart.  
  
"Do you really, really have to go?" she whimpered.  
  
"I have a good deal to do before morning," he gave her a weak smile, "could I pick you up tomorrow, for dinner?"  
  
"Well," he could tell she was trying to show that she really felt injured by his abrupt leaving, but he knew she would accept the invitation, "I suppose so." She smiled, eyes bright, but- the smile didn't reach her eyes.  
  
Moody grabbed his cloak, kissed her once and stepped out into the night. The wind lashed against him, but he kept walking until he was out of sight of the Potter's house. Then he apparated.  
  
With a small "pop" Alastor Moody appeared in the most unusual place. It was dark and mangy, no one would ever have thought that it had been inhabited, except for the old furniture all over. The chairs were all missing legs, and as Moody sat down they creaked dangerously. He dared not light a fire in the empty grate, instead he settled himself down for a long cold night of work.  
  
"Oh Alastor!" she breathed out with delight. Her gold hair framed her face better than any portrait could wish. Her white creamy hands rubbed his bare chest. They lay entangled on his large bed, their hearts racing together.  
  
Something was terribly wrong. Gideon and Fabian had left without a trace. There was no sign of their bodies, or that a fight had ever occurred. Surely some bushes must have been scorched by deflected and off-target spells. There were not even footsteps on the ground. Nothing.  
  
Her mouth met his and they merged their bodies, becoming one, rolling in passion and delight. "Oh, Alastor,"  
  
Moody closed the last book with a snap. He stopped to make sure no one from the village had heard him. That was preposterous, no one would hear him up on this distant hill.  
  
Flexing his stiff, cold and numb fingers he walked to the window and gazed out across the little village. Everything was dark, no lights were lit in the houses. As he gazed movement caught his eye. There! In the shadow of the darkest of all the allies. In the black shadows something even blacker moved. It was what he had been waiting for all night. This is where Gideon and Fabian's murders would finally reveal themselves.  
  
Moody set off into the dark and shadowy night. Vengeance was nearly his. 


	4. 4

4  
  
Moody moved through the streets with a cat-like grace, his feet padding softly. His magical blue eye swivelled searching for an ambush. He came to an alley, the darkest alley in Hogsmead. In the shadows, barely visible was the black cloak of a death eater. As he watched a pale hand, that seemed ghostly black because of the surrounding darkness, snaked out from a long sleeve fingers curling.  
  
"It is very good then." Said a low drawling, seductive voice.  
  
"I had it all fixed, everything, they'll never find a trace." A different voice, strong, sure. "Exactly how much did they find out?" the first to speak, he had an eager tip to his voice.  
  
"Too much," he laughed harshly, the sound unnatural in the unnaturally quiet night, "but they never had a chance to tell."  
  
"What are you going to do now?"  
  
"What the Dark Lord, our master, has ordered me." His voice was hard, Moody knew it was not often that the death eaters prod into each other's business. And the situation was getting dangerous, very dangerous.  
  
"What has the spy reported?"  
  
Moody stiffened, alert and tense. Spy?  
  
"Which spy?"  
  
"P-"  
  
"Silencio! You fool, do not say his name aloud. There are some who still do not know him."  
  
Moody backed away from the black shadows. There was a spy. He must tell Dumbledore, yet, he felt compelled to stay. For Gideon. For Fabian. For Dorcas.  
  
"The spy reported that the Order met last night."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"The Potters."  
  
"Potter?"  
  
"Yes, Potter."  
  
"well, well, the Potters." Moody could see the white teeth in the hideous grin. He could not wait much longer.  
  
"What else did the spy say?"  
  
"They are unsure about what Dumbledore will do next." So, at least they believed that the Order was uninformed on Dumbledore's thoughts and moves.  
  
"Wait," the pale hand reached out, "someone's there! Quick!"  
  
Moody didn't give them a chance. By the time the spells came they hit the empty wall where he had been standing moments before. 


	5. 5

* * *

**5**

Rosier had been running for a long time. He was tired, but the aurors kept pursuing him. At last he realized he couldn't keep running forever. He had to stop. He turned to face them, and watched as the came toward him slowly.

Alastor Moody was in the lead, he called to Rosier.

"Rosier, come quietly with us, you will not be killed, drop your wand put your hands in the air."

"Ha! And let one of those slimy creeps "kiss" me?"

"We do not administer the Dementor's kiss."

Rosier looked around franticly trying to form an escape plan, he had to keep them stalling.

"Why, you don't even know if I'm guilty, I've never hurt a fly."

"Maybe you never hurt a fly, but you killed the Prewett brothers."

Damn! They had him, Rosier tried again, his voice low and seductive.

"How do you know that's true?"

"We're tired of games Rosier, you have 'til the count of three to do as we've asked. One..."

Rosier cast a look around him.

"Two..."

It was hopeless, there was nothing for it, he'd have to fight his way out of this one.

"Three!"

The curses flew thick, as the aurors and Rosier, the deatheater, leapt into action.

Moody wiped the stream of blood coursing from his nose, blood covered his robes and face. One of Rosier's curses had hit his nose, sending a chunk of it flying. The blood hit the pavement and spattered, at the feet of the corpse_. Damn him_, thought Moody, _why'd he have to fight?_ The battle had lasted until Rosier was dead. He was no match for six well trained aurors, despite what You-Know-Who may've taught him.

Frank hurried over and performed a light bandaging charm on Moody. The flow of blood from his nose lessened immediately.

"You'll have to get that fixed, Alastor." Frank said. He looked tired and worn out. Moody still didn't understand why Frank had become an auror, he was to cheerful and friendly, he should've been a healer, like his wife.

"It'll be fine, don't worry Frank, I've had worse." He gave a weak chuckle. Frank smiled back, shakily.

"Don't worry about the body, I'll take care of that, why don't you go to St. Mungo's and see what they can do."

"Thanks Frank, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Regular time, as usual."

Moody disapperated, and apperated in St. Mungo's. He went to visit his usual healer, his nose fixed in a few minutes. But the chunk would always be missing.

Leaving the hospital he stopped on his way home and picked out a large bouquet of pink roses. He then prepared for dinner. He was impatient to see Dorcas.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

6

They sat across from each other in silence.

Moody picked at his chicken leg. The tap as he set down his fork on the plate seemed to resound like a thunder clap. Dorcas sat across from him, trying to eat calmly.

She had been hysterical when she saw him.

_She doesn't love me anymore. That bastard ruined my handsome face. If my face was ever handsome._

Moody couldn't stand it anymore. He took another bite and slammed down his fork.

"I'm ugly right? You don't..." his voice cracked, and he remembered that neither had ever said that they loved the other.

"don't love me anymore?" he tried to use the word lightly. Dorcas glanced up sharply.

"Of course I love you. Still. It was just – a shock." She bit her lip and glanced down, gold hair falling around her shoulders. "Your work is so dangerous, and I'm concerned. I never know if I'm going to see you the next night-alive."

He got up and came around to her chair. His arms encircled her, and he breathed in her deep scent, he wasn't quite sure what it reminded him of...

"I'll come home again, I always will." He whispered in her ear, voice husky.

He wasn't quite sure how they got from the dining room to the bedroom, but the lay there, on his large bed, twisting in a love song of body.

The early morning sunlight touched his eyelids, waking him. Beside him was the warm, smooth body of Dorcas. He stroked her hair gently with his finger tip, brushing it over her temples, across her eyes, feeling her soft lips.

An owl knocked at the window, tap! Tap! Tap tap!

Heaving a sigh he got up and opened the window, allowing the owl to flutter onto the back of a chair.

**Death Eaters Converge on Godric's Hollow**

Late last night a resident of Godric's Hollow reported sighting 6 Death Eaters in Godric's Hollow. Only a few wizarding families reside in Godric's Hollow, and it was a muggle's house that was the focus of the attack. By the time hit wizards and aurors arrived the death eaters had fled and the muggle house was found in shambles. Completely destroyed only burnt timers remained of what was said to be "a fine house". There is no sign of the muggles, believed to be dead. Muggle Police arrived on the scene shortly after the wizards, they have been led to believe that there was a house fire.

There has been little speculation as to the cause of the attack. Aurors are investigating.

A muggle home attacked? Godric's Hollow? And why hadn't he been summoned? If the death eaters were in Godric's Hollow, the most logical answer was that they had gone to attack a wizarding family, couldn't find the house, and decided upon a muggle attack. Why wouldn't they be able to find the wizard house-because it was guarded by a secret keeper, which houses were thus guarded? – only the Potter's, that he knew of.

Someone, he didn't know who, had tipped off Voldemort and his supporters as to the whereabouts of the order. The scum.

Who would've so basely betrayed the Order?

He hadn't realized that he'd been pacing around, only with a sheet tied around his waist. His tramping had woken Dorcas. She stirred and opened her eyes. Glancing up at him she yawned and stretched.

Now was not the time for that...

"I have to go to Dumbledore." He turned, and began putting on his robes.

"But—you just woke up, what can have happened?" Her face was so innocent. So sweet. He loved her more than he had every loved anyone else. She seemed so weak, he would always protect her. But not now, she needed to know, needed to be careful. He didn't know what he'd do if a death eater got her. Best not to dwell on these thoughts, yet it renewed his energy.

"Bad news, a muggle house in Godric's Hollow was attacked by death eaters during the night. I've got to go now." He tossed the paper on the dresser, finished putting on his robes. He got on the bed and crawled to where she sat, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Wrapping her in his arms he kissed her. "I'm sorry about this. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Next minute, he was gone. Dorcas sat in the bed for a minute before getting up. She began to read the paper.


End file.
